Awakening
by Silvera Sea
Summary: Not everything that was destroyed should have ended. This is a piece of what could have been, and of what is possible to create between the bars caging us in.


**I loved Tron: Legacy, but I felt that there could have been another ending, a happier one, for Kevin. This is not a rewrite of the ending, instead, it's Flynn's view of his sons arrival, how he was destroyed, and his awakening (Thus, the title. I know, pretty unimaginative, right?). Anyways, so far, I have no plans in making this a sequel, but I will most likely return and polish this up. Please forgive any typos, it's basically four am currently and I am dead beat. I just wanted to finish typing before my excitement over the movie became fuzzed, and then I thought of posting it on fanfiction, and I saw no reason not too... so here it is! I hope those of you who read it will find it enjoyable :)**

* * *

Awakening

'

Summery: In absorbing his creation, he had corrupted his own coding beyond recognition, destroying himself in the process. He, who had created this world to begin with, was destroyed because of his creations, and because of his mistake. Yet their remained a ray of hope, a distant light that captured all that he was in pieces, so that he may become whole again.

* * *

I couldn't believe what my eyes were telling me at this moment. They had lied to me many times before, showing me things that I wished were true, only for me to wake up back to the only reality I could. Why should I place my trust in things that were unreliable?

Yet Quorra wouldn't lie to me, not purposefully, and I can't imagine how she could even possibly begin to believe in something that wasn't there. Even though it shouldn't have been the logical solution, it was the only one that fit. I seemed to have been given a second chance. Yet by that chance being given to me, a life was taken away from the one that stood before me.

Despite my disbelief, I could find no other explanation, and that filled me with joy, joy and inexplicable horror at the meaning behind such things.

He was here.

* * *

I had caught him.

There was no escaping the fact that I had been able to latch the programming onto him, because he stood in one place, fighting against a force that seemed invisible.

Perhaps such is the power of the human mind.

A strength rose up in me in sight of his struggles. I could do this, I could defeat him. A fact arose in my mind, a fact that almost made me laugh and loose concentration. For what seemed like hundreds of years for me, I had cowered away from my duplicate, afraid that he would erase me forever. Yet all it took to bring out the courage, lying dormant within me since I became trapped, was the sight of my son. He may have been older, changed in mind as well as body, but I could see the resemblance of not only me inside him, but his mother. All it took was for his presence to be here, and all my teachings to Quorra, of being selfless and taking yourself out of the equation, finally blossomed in my own mind. I could do this for all of mankind, so CLU wouldn't escape and reek havoc on the real world, but no, I would do this not for them, but for my son.

My son, who brought out the better part of me. My son, who I had left behind so long ago when I was trapped here. My son, who taught me so much, who was now in danger of being followed through the portal by my past self. Oh, the irony. My only wish was to escape the grid since I have first become imprisoned here, so now is the wish of my reflection

CLU fought against the restraints of the programming, I felt the struggle stir within him, fighting me with all of his being. But I was a user, I was not bound by his restraints, his laws of logic that he was forced to follow, being a piece of coding from a machine. I could do things he could not.

I let loose the programming a little, letting him think he was free. It was a ploy similar to what one would do with a hooked fish. Reel in the line a little, then stop and gather strength as you wait for the most unexpected moment to continue to turn the reel.

I yanked.

My duplicate was so taken aback by this, I was able to pull him fully into me. Then I did what I knew would destroy us both, I integrated him into me.

It felt strange, to envelope ones own programming. It was a duplicate of a past me, something I should have easily recognized. Yet I did not. He was as foreign to me as the grid was when I first stepped onto it. He had changed over time, changed into his own person, only using me as a building block to create a new entity. I accepted him.

As the coding copied itself on top of my own, it deleted not only his coding but my coding as well. I felt myself vanish, and I'm sure it appeared fast to those outside viewing it, but to me, it was if my consciousness had slowed to impossible speeds, even faster then a supercomputer.

I felt my body dematerialize, yet my full, entire consciousness felt it all happening. I had always thought that in death, your thoughts would slowly erase themselves and fade out. Even as I died, feeling as my body disintegrated, it was strange to perceive my thoughts as a conscious whole. It seemed as if as my body disappeared, so should my thoughts.

Yet that was not the case.

As my body disintegrated, my mind grew in power and size. My consciousness arose to unfathomable depth, spreading outwards so quickly I could hardly keep track of what came and went. My thoughts soon enveloped other things, and I quickly purged those that I knew to be evil. But then my mind spread, an instinctive feeling took over everything that I could do, and soon I not only enveloped programs, good or bad, but as I did so I destroyed them, as if they couldn't continue to function where I could view.

My mind was a sphere, encompassing and enveloping everything that came across my path. My momentum went far beyond anything stoppable, it was a thing I had no control over. I spread, destroying all in my path. My consciousness spread thin, and as it did so, I began to loose myself.

Thoughts slipped from my grasp. I began to loose the knowledge of what it meant to be human. Things became erased, slipped away from me, and I could no longer care, since I never knew anything was missing. The grid became the only reality, but as I enveloped it, it, too, was gone.

I was only a driving force, with no purpose, no memories, and certainly no home. I could do nothing but continue to move forward, until all my programing was so thin that even that driving force would disappear.

And in a single frame, it did just that.

* * *

It didn't seem probable, or even possible, but somehow it was still there. Yes, it may have been in pieces, strewn across the Ethernet, but the coding that made up Flynn's consciousness was still in existence.

One would think that the grid was separate from all other networks, that even the computer had no cords plugged into it to connect it to any outside electronics. The world was believed to be isolated for all sense and purpose, but it was not. It was Flynn's own invention, the ability to connect with a network signal wirelessly that he had built into his computer, that had saved himself. He would not be turned off along with the computer.

These pieces were stored as what programmers would call 'junk data', and to those that would pull them up, it certainly seemed like so. Numbers and letters formed not discernible pattern across the desktop, seemingly in hexadecimal, and if one was to open the file and see the code, they would most likely delete it.

It was a good thing then that the pieces began to reform. A pull like a magnet, greater then what could be created by a program, above all programs, began to tug all the pieces to one single piece of information that did make sense, though it only contained a name. There was no other title, just one, just 'Flynn'.

* * *

It began with the end.

He felt that his consciousness had become so vast, that it could no longer support higher thinking. Soon, it couldn't even support basic instincts. One would no longer call it a consciousness at this point, only one word seemed suitable, and that was 'soul'.

Then the end reversed.

It started slowly, a slow tug that nudged the pieces back together. But the consciousness wasn't even awake, it wasn't stretched, it was broken. Nothing awoke until all the pieces gathered, and in a great burst, they melded together, becoming a solid, human thought.

Becoming _him_.

There was so many possibilities. He could travel across the Ethernet freely, without need to travel along paths of data. He was as fee as his mind allowed him to be. Free to send messages to the outside world, free to retrieve data from others computers. No firewall was as strong as a full mental assault from ones mind. He could roam as he so wished. When he was ready to return to the outside world, he could through contacting Sam. He could see everything he wanted to.

All of the possibilities were endless, and the last piece of data converged.

And Kevin Flynn opened his eyes.

* * *

**Yes, I know it's short, but I hope it is good enough for those looking for a quick read, and perhaps those that weren't. Again, I will most likely polish this up later (most likely elaborate on the ending), so constructive criticism welcomed... Only as long as it's not a flamer comment disguised as criticism. A.K.A. 'That sucked horribly, you shouldn't have written that!' Will not be accepted :)**

**~ Silvera**


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